


Morning Regrets

by cyanidegirl



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Bit of a longer piece, M/M, Pining, The Author Regrets Nothing, Wally West however regrets Everything, boy did he fuck this one up, mistakes are made on both sides, one I'm really proud of, stupid boys in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-22 00:09:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8265485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyanidegirl/pseuds/cyanidegirl
Summary: You're Kid Flash, you fix things.  It's what you do. But this time, you did the breaking.  You'll never get to the fixing.





	1. Morning Regrets

    You’re laying in your bed, staring at the ceiling.  You’ve lived your entire life always knowing exactly what you want, always going right for it.  You’re a go-getter.  You always said you didn’t want to have any regrets later in life, so why did you do this?  Why did you run out on him?

      Because that’s exactly what you did.  You ran out on him, using super speed, even.  You, who leaned in and kissed the blushing boy, panicked and ran.  Mumbled something about how you _shouldn’t have done that_ and _don’t like boys that way_ and ran.  Left him sitting there thinking he did something wrong.

      So now you lay there and stare as the sunlight paints your ceiling, and you regret what you did.  It’s a small feeling saying _you shouldn’t have left him there_.  You, however, are also the master of denial.  You put it to rest thinking _what’s done is done_ and you tell yourself that you’ll call him later and fix it.  He’s your best friend, you have to fix it.  

      You don’t get the chance to.

      You see it on the news as you’re making breakfast: Nightwing killed by the Joker and Harley Quinn.  You drop your plate of eggs, and everything in you goes cold.  Your always racing heart stops and every thought in your head halts.   _Not him,_ you think, _oh god not him_.

      You distantly hear your communicator go off, the one with a direct link to the batcave and in that moment you know this is real.  You wish it wasn’t.

      You sink to the floor in front of the television and you’re barely listening.  All you can see is the hurt look in his eyes as you ran away last night, how you could hear his heart break even as you went through the door.  All you see is how it has to be your fault, because he would never take on those two alone in his right mind.  He went into a fight heartbroken and it is your fault he didn’t come back.  He is gone, and he died alone.  The man who put everyone else before himself is nothing more than a body now.

      You have never felt regret like this.  This deep seated, burning regret.  It’s begging you to tear off your skin, to run as fast as possible because maybe _if I want it enough I can run fast enough to turn back time_ but you can’t.  You can’t do anything but sit here in remorse over what you have done.  He is gone forever and there is no fixing this.

      You do not know that last night he accepted to most dangerous mission he has ever faced.  That he had to fake his death and become a new person.  You do not know that he was fueled by heartbreak when he accepted, that he was so desperate to not feel your rejection he would risk his life to go undercover.  You do not know that he still loves you.  You do not know he regrets not telling you about this.  


	2. Empty Corridors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You desperately wish you could go back to when everything was perfect, but wishing can't get you anywhere. You're stuck here now, in an empty hallway.

  The house has always been big, always impossibly huge.  You never paid attention to its size, never cared about any of the wealth around you.  Not as long as _he_ was there.  There just wasn't any moment to spare looking at how high the ceilings were when the Boy Wonder was doing backflips down the hallway.

        You pause now, in the middle of that giant house, remembering better days.  Remembering how you would race each other, how he seemed to fly even when he was on the ground.  How he hums from the shelves in the library, or slid down nearly every bannister and always, _always,_ flipped off the end of them.  It all seems so long ago, long before life got complicated.  Before life got painful.

        Before you made his life painful, if only for a night.

        You want so desperately to go back to that glowing time.  Back to the innocence of a new friendship and youth.  To the sun streaming through open windows into two boys who already knew that the world could be cruel, but hadn't yet seen the worst of.

        Hadn't yet felt the worst of it.

        You walk aimlessly through that maze of hallways, seeing the ghost of your Boy Wonder everywhere. You have no right to call him _your_ Boy Wonder, you scold yourself. Not after the way you fucked that up. (He would say it's not your fault, he’ll always say it isn't).

        You fill your head with happier memories, with all the hopes you used to have and the dreams you shared.  Countless days spent just being kids.  You don't even realize that you've walked to the hall his room is in, not until you stop in front of the door.  You're scared to open it, to walk in and see that empty room.

        You open the door, because you need to see it.  You need to be surrounded by his things, even if they're only a cheap substitute for what you really want. So you open the door, and you feel the final wall holding back your grief break.  Because there, sitting on the carpet, are the remnants of that night.

        The empty soda bottles and abandoned video game console look innocent enough, but you know that them still being there means he didn't bother cleaning them up.  And there it is, another wave of guilt over how you ran out on him.  You sink to the floor amid the mess and consider for the millionth time how hurt he must have been.  The look in his eyes as you left the room is seared into your mind and it's the final straw.  

        Here you are, the fastest boy alive, sitting on the floor of the Boy Wonder’s bedroom, crying with everything in you.  You are too wrapped in your grief to remember that the door is open, leading to empty corridors in a house that wasn't always this empty.

        You don't know that they are not as empty as you think, and you don't know that the boy wonder will one day run down them with you again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently this wasn't happy enough for my friends, but to each their own I guess.


End file.
